The Cloister and the Hearth

Product Information

The scene with the gibbet wherein (haha) they stand under the decaying bodies of certain criminals and are regaled with the tales of how each poor soul was brought to this sorry end. Classic macabre medieval lit. Toothsome, that.

One of Reade's goals was to put flesh (or, a story) on the dusty bones of forgotten names in history, which is a very interesting idea. How many times do we read our own genealogies, only to just let the names glaze us over and we fail to grasp that these were living, breathing human beings at one point just as we are? Arthur Machen, in his short story "The Islington Mystery, [3] contrasted the work with George Eliot's Romola: The Cloister and the Hearth', by Charles Reade, was published in 1861. It's a long and winding picaresque novel set in 15th century Europe, telling the story of the love between Gerard Eliason, an artist turned priest, and Margaret Brandt, the daughter of a poor scholar, and reflects the conflict between family and church which overshadowed the lives of so many in medieval times. Its uniqueness lies in the way Reade, having meticulously researched his subject and the period, gives us insights more detailed than any other writer of fiction into medieval lifestyles and morals, combined with vivid descriptions of his characters – many based on real historical figures – and locations. He deliberately strays towards a medieval writing style, with many an archaic word to tantalise the reader or listener (an education in itself). Until well into the twentieth century, ‘The Cloister and the Hearth’ was considered one of the greatest novels in the English language. Its popularity may have faded, but those who have read it will tell you of the enduring power of Reade’s tour de force. A revival is long overdue, and is deserved: it’s an exceptional book. - Summary by Tom Denholm There were always priests, monks and other clergy to be found, and they were either ascetic or corrupt – rarely anything inbetween. Women could be lewd, shrewish, strong-minded or virginal, but essentially dependent on their menfolk. Taverns and prostitutes were a-plenty. Aristocrats were noble or dishonest, not much else. Poor people were subservient and loyal. Fourthly, the young man Gerard as the chief hero is from start different than the rest, in his family, but also amongst strangers. He was going into the Church, despite the fact that his own’s habits were frivolous, in the sense that his trivialities, whereas he easily got advanced in learning and skills, were reading and penmanship, also coquetting a bit with drawing and fine art. Moreover, as the story develops, it turns out that the young man Gerard is a prodigy of Don Quixote, in a sort of parallel. He is fighting all kinds of robbers, thieves, even wild animals, and it gets out of it victorious. I am still remembering the scene with the wind-mill, where Gerard managed to keep at distance all those ill men, and one by one they are eventually killed by a blazing fire… And then, more marvellous occurrences happened, and Gerard became Brother Clement, a friar of St. Dominic, as if dying to the world, the monk parted with the very name by which he had lived in it, and so broke the last link of association with earthly feelings. But that’s not all, because there are other steps on the ladder of his becoming till his end of days…a hermit, too, and then a priest, and then a monk again. And, surely, that age was not a time for fooling, if you know what I mean ;)The following is an incomplete list of words that I looked up during my reading of The Cloister and the Hearth:

Opening Chapter 1: Not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer noble sorrows. Of these obscure heroes, philosophers, and martyrs, the greater part will never be known till that hour, when many that are great shall be small, and the small great; but of others the world's knowledge may be said to sleep: their lives and characters lie hidden from nations in the annals that record them. The general reader cannot feel them, they are presented so curtly and coldly: they are not like breathing stories appealing to his heart, but little historic hail-stones striking him but to glance off his bosom: nor can he understand them; for epitomes are not narratives, as skeletons are not human figures. The Cloister and the Hearth (1861) is a historical novel by the British author Charles Reade. Set in the 15th century, it relates the travels of a young scribe and illuminator, Gerard Eliassoen, through several European countries. The Cloister and the Hearth often describes the events, people and their practices in minute detail. Its main theme is the struggle between man's obligations to family and to Church. The book was far too long, and I wished there was more about the Pilgrimage, but what a trip! I think I may have to actually read it next time, so I can spoon all those fragrant, steaming chunks of language manually into my brain.The Cloister and the Hearth is certainly erudite, perhaps too much so. Reade makes the error that has become common in writers of the last few decades who wish to be taken seriously. He constantly makes a display of his factual knowledge of every aspect of medieval life, with the result that the story frequently grinds to a halt while we can hear some arid discussion about art or clerical disputes. This pads out the book at the expense of any pacing, but perhaps this is as well, as there is not a lot of story to begin with. It is hard not to feel frustrated that the two lovers seem to spend decades before meeting up when a journey across Europe should not have taken more than a few months. This is achieved by the piling up of unlikely events designed to detain or deter Gerard from completing his travels.

Mercy! What's this? A gibbet! and ugh, two skeletons thereon! Oh Denys, what a sorry sight to woo by!" "Nay, said Denys, "a comfortable sight; for every rogue i' the air there is one the less a-foot." Here's the first passage of the book: "Not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer noble sorrows. Of these obscure heroes, philosophers, and martyrs, the greater part will never be known till that hour when many that are great shall be small, and the small great; but of others the world's knowledge may be said to sleep: their lives and characters lie hidden from nations in the annals that record them. The general reader cannot feel them, they are presented so curtly and coldly: they are not like breathing stories appealing to his heart, but little historic hail-stones striking him but to glance off his bosom: nor can he understand them; for epitomes are not narratives, as skeletons are not human figures. I was surprised to come to the end of the book and find that this story is a very “supposed” account of two people who actually lived. This is a very Catholic story, but at the same time it takes place on the eve of the Reformation and Gerard has his own opinions on doctrinal issues. In actuality, it is the author's agenda that shows through in the end. I particularly appreciated his making the case for community to help overcome one's temptations, rather than isolation. I came across this book on Bettie's feed years ago, but the size of the thing was daunting. I was scared to start. It sat in my e-reader for years, gathering virtual dust. Thankfully, Tom Denholm (who has a lovely voice and even reads all the Dutch and French bits perfectly) rescued it from oblivion by recording it for Librivox. It must have taken me a month to listen to the whole book, and it's so big I hardly know where to start, so I'll be brief - unlike the book. (If only I could review in Haiku, that would be funny - medieval haiku, though? Maybe not.)If fiction is to be believed, there were soldiers and knights regularly roaming the country aimlessly on some pointless and digressive quest. Some were brave, some were evil, some were comical, some were weak – and there were very few of any other kind. These knights were always defending damsels, getting into skirmishes or being drawn into battles.

I had a hunch that the length, ebb and flow of the action pacing signaled that it had begun in serial form in the 1800’s, and upon doing some research I learned that is correct. In which case, I think this very dramatic novel would make a good basis for a serialized audio drama.I wonder what the medieval period was really like. We know what the fictional medieval era was like because it can be found in every single work of fiction about this age for hundreds of years. Indeed even the writers of that time perpetuated the myth. NOV 2014 - I must admit I was torn about how to rate this book. Initially, I felt certain it was 5 stars. Then in the middle and in other places, we got bogged down with the novels-within-novels, the contrivances, and the theological dissertations. That put the book at a good, solid 3. Well, having completed the reading (and crying lots of tears at the ending), I rewarded The Cloister and The Hearth 5 stars. Love thwarted by the machinations of a spiteful burgomaster and Gerard's greedy brothers, Gerard sets out for Rome, determined to make his way in the world and provide for his secret bride. Adventures ensue. Many adventures. He befriends Denys, a woman-crazy but good-hearted arbalestrier (a crossbowman--I had to look that one up) who becomes his boon companion. Adventures and more adventures. I won't give anything away, but the part where Gerard and Denys are beset by bandits at an inn, and the way Gerard cleverly uses his talents to gain the upper hand, is one of the coolest things I've ever read.